


Invade My Dreams, And I'll Invade Your Personal Space

by Kitsu



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: As Season 3 Is Out This Is Now Firmly An AU, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood Sharing, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs With Teeth, Choking, Claws, Dreams, Dreamsharing, Feels, Filthy, Fucking, Loneliness, Longing, M/M, Nails, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season 2, Post-Season/Series 02, Profanities Galore, Sex Dreams, Shameless Smut, Smut, So much teeth, Sword Oil As Lube, Teeth, There Will Always Be Blood With These Two Involved, blood as a drug, implied polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22080379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsu/pseuds/Kitsu
Summary: They both dream, though the dreams slip away under the harsh light of day. Trevor shows up at Alucard's door to figure out what causes his sleepless nights, only the find Alucard suffers from the same ailment.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya & Trevor Belmont, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont, Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades (implied), Trevor Belmont/Trevor Belmont | Alucard
Comments: 6
Kudos: 233





	Invade My Dreams, And I'll Invade Your Personal Space

**Author's Note:**

> 2nd take at these two madmen in a few days. Went from "Smut. Period." to "Smut. With feels." Written mostly from Alucard's POV this time around, though I sort of want to write the mirror fic to this one as well.

“You’re giving me your home?” The words made something clench behind Adrian’s ribs, something made entirely out of edges, cutting and raw. His fists clenched by his side, his nails digging into his palms. Trevor seemed so _vivacious_ as he proclaimed it, and Adrian understood that he’d meant is in the best of ways, yet the rest of Trevor’s words, blurred and distant, escaped him, though he nodded quietly where it seemed appropriate.

Trevor wanted him to live - that much was clear. They both did, Trevor and Sypha, but they still intended on leaving him to his own devices, in what was tantamount to a mausoleum, an empty grave of a castle. A monument to death where memories infested every room, some happy, some heart-wrenchingly sad. Ghosts around every corner.

Watching their backs as they left searching for the Speakers, listening to their whispered words and shared laughs getting more and more distant, hushed, something heavy settled on his shoulders, and just wouldn’t lift. He found himself in his old room, trying to clear away the clutter, when an all encompassing sense of sorrow overtook him. Alone, he let go of his control, tears for his mother, for his father - for himself - streaming down his face, freely, until there were no more tears to shed. When they’d all dried up, he wiped the salt from his face and set about doing _something_.

He sought - and found - some solace in the vast array of books and scientific texts found both within the castle proper and the Belmont keep beneath. Mindful of their immeasurable value, he set about keeping the numerous items safe, replacing broken doors, windows and roofs. With his strength, it was an easy enough task, though physical enough for him to keep himself preoccupied for a few days and weeks, using the rubble from the Belmont estate ruins to repair and rebuild.

When all the precious knowledge had been secured behind new doors and under new roofs, he found himself bored again, with an itch he couldn’t scratch. Only his dreams provided him some comfort, some escape - and though he didn’t actually need the sleep, he found himself drifting off to sleep more and more often, dreaming of the time before. Dreaming of his childhood, his mother, even his father’s kindness and instructions as he had quickly grown, shedding his child form far quicker than any human babe. Sometimes he dreamt of his mother’s death, of his father’s madness, waking sweaty and skittish, back against the wall, nerves on edge. Other times he dreamt of Sypha’s smile, the gleam in her eyes when she got her hand on new knowledge or was told a new story, or when she could one up either of the men in their rag-tag band of not-so-merry people in any way. He missed her quick wit and sharp tongue. Her friendship. Her consoling hand.

And sometimes he dreamt of Trevor Belmont - abrasive, crass and foul-mouthed monster hunter. Uncouth and crude. A blunt instrument to be aimed at monsters in your way, nothing more.

Yet, sometimes a pair of bright blue eyes invaded Adrian’s dreams, disturbing, piercing, seeing straight through him. Eyes that saw his every struggle with his inhumanity, eyes that held no fear, eyes that burned hotter than the sun.

Eyes that more and more often were part of something more tangible, something warm and hard and after a few months, familiar, Those were the nights when his sleep was at its worst, where he woke confused, mind addled and sleep-drunk, with strange aches in his body. Those were the nights his dreams felt invaded, felt like they were not entirely his own, after which he woke dry-mouthed and _hungry_. And yet his dreams fuelled his days, kept him sane through weeks, months, the darkest of winter. Until the day there was a knock on his front door, insistent, demanding. 

Pushing the giant doors open, he stepped back, instinctively shying away from the familiar form standing unapologetic on his doorstep.

“Belmont,“ he stated dryly. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to speak,” Belmont, without an invitation, stalked into the large hall, and the doors closed behind him.

“You’re alone, Belmont?”

“Yes. This is between you and me, Sypha is waiting with her kin.” Belmont seemed tense, his words terse, none of his usual frivolous foulmouthedness. Whatever this was about, it had to be serious.

“Then follow me.” Adrian led them to a smaller room, off the main hall, where a fire burnt, and they could talk in comfort. “Have a seat,” he said, walking to the fire, warming his fingers against it. Turning his back on Trevor let him hide his face, hide the joy he knew would be apparent upon it, the appreciation of company, no matter what grave things Belmont wanted to discuss. “What is this about?” 

“I, uh,” Belmont started, but trailed off. 

Tilting his head slightly, Adrian could see that he was pulling gloves off his hands, and running bare fingers through his hair, in apparent frustration, before sitting down on a chair by the table. “Yes?” he inquired.

“Tell me, Alucard, do you sleep well these days?” 

Adrian’s chin whipped up, and his back stiffened. The question came so fast it had to have been practiced. What was going on?

“Because, let me tell you, I don’t. I haven’t for months.” The words spilled from Belmont in quick succession - his voice taking on an exasperated edge.

Hearing it spoken, Adrian could see it. The darkness beneath Trevor’s eyes, a weariness, sluggishness to his movements. “And you came to tell me this why?” Oh, but he was starting to have an inkling, and it didn't bode well.

“Thought you’d care, asshole.” There he was, the Trevor he knew. “Nah, not really. But Sypha though you might be able to help. You or the books.”

“Oh? The books I can see, but me? Why would I be able to help with your insomnia?” Adrian ran his fingers along the top of the fireplace’s mantel, still unwilling to look at Belmont directly.

Again, a heavy silence settled over Belmont, Adrian could just imaging the cogs turning in his mind as he tried to formulate an answer. 

“Because I think you might be the reason I can’t sleep.”

There it was, blunt, to the point, no meandering, no beating about the bush.

“How can I be the reason when I’ve been locked up here in this castle for close to a year?” An edge of bitterness he hadn’t counted on snuck into his voice, tainting it. He _hated_ being alone. Being _left_ alone.

“Who knows with your vampiric powers? I just know…”

“You know nothing, Belmont.” It came out louder than Adrian had meant, stopping Trevor short. Sighing, he collected himself. “Tell me then, what powers am I supposed to have subjected you to from miles and miles away, not even knowing where you were at any given time?”

Again with the sheepish dragging of fingers through hair before speaking. “I dream of _you._ Broken, disturbing dreams that cut sleep short. Dreams that feel...different. Not nightmares, exactly, but they wake me in a similar manner. I get no rest from those nights at all.”

Rubbing his face with his palms, Adrian sighed. Dammit, it was most likely his fault somehow then, their sleep-issues too similar to be a coincidence. “Why…?” He was mostly speaking to the wall in front of him, but Trevor heard.

“Why what?”

Not feeling like answering, Adrian turned the topic by turning cold and mean. He knew what he did, knew why, couldn’t stop himself. “Does she know what you dream of?” 

“Yes. _She_ does.” Trevor looked up, his eyes burning into Adrian’s back.

“And she doesn’t object to you dreaming of men instead of her?” Definitely riling Belmont on purpose.

“Ah, but…. No, in fact she doesn’t. There isn’t a jealous bone in that girl, Alucard. She might have taken some weird liking to me, but she loves you as well, as a friend and compatriot, and… As I said, she sent me here. I think she was just as worried for you as for me.”

That did in fact sound like Sypha Belnades, Speaker magician extraordinaire. 

“You love her?”

The blush rising on Belmont’s face made his palms itch, woke that little urging voice in the back of his mind that _hungered._

“I do, I suppose. It’s still a new thing, but yeah…”

“And yet you admit you dream of me to her. Tell me, what do you dream that is so unsettling it wears you out?” Pulling away from the fire, Adrian walked along the walls of the room, fingers grazing items he had left there over the last few months as he walked slowly around Trevor, keeping his fingers busy, distracting him from the itch. 

“Shit,” Trevor breathed. “It’s embarrassing, really. A grown man disturbed by nightmares. The dreams, they’re hard to remember, but I know you are in them. I can remember glimpses - your eyes, your hair, your claws...hands.”

Moving closer to Trevor’s back, Adrian continued. “And what do my hands do to you in your sleep?” Taking a chance, he drifts all the way up to Trevor, soundlessly placing his palms on the hunter’s shoulders. Belmont twitches, but his movement quickly still, remaining sat, Adrian’s hands touching him.

Sensing a change in Trevor’s pulse, a slight quickening of his blood, a shuddering breath inhaled between clenched teeth, Adrian accepted instantly what his own dreams had been about - he _wanted_. Hungered. For company, for touch, for skin against skin. And for blood. Something whispered in the back of his mind, whispered of dark, dangerous, devilish things, impious and unholy. Letting his hands slide along the edge of Trevor’s shoulder guards, they travelled closer to his throat, to exposed skin, warm under the pads of his fingers.

“Because, Trevor, I have been dreaming also.” He leaned closer, his chin just above the top of Trevor’s head, feeling every muscle in Trevor tense and vibrate, the innate fight or flight response in humans trying to kick in and settling on ‘freeze’ for the moment. “Dark dreams, ungodly dreams.” He interwove his fingers under Trevor’s chin and used them to tilt Trevor’s head back, until Trevor was staring him in the eyes. “Dreams of blue eyes.”

That shocked something in Trevor into motion, broke him out of his frozen state. He leapt to his feet, backing himself up against a wall. “So it was you…?”

Shrugging, Adrian threw up his hands disarmingly. “Who’s to say it wasn’t _you_? My own dreams are just as hard to remember the next day as you say yours are.” Feeling every bit the predator in the room, Adrian stalked closer to Trevor again, ignoring the hand twitching on the handle of the Morning Star. “I’ve done nothing, at least not intentionally. Who’s to say there isn’t a drop of magic in your blood, Belmont? Maybe an incubus in you lineage somewhere? A mare, a lidérc?”

Trevor sputtered, apparently not able to form an insult to reciprocate with. 

Lifting his feet from the floor, Adrian drifted closer, so close he was in Trevor’s face, leaving the hunter trapped against the wall unless he truly wanted to lash out. He was in Trevor’s personal space, and he knew it. Hovering just above the floor to play up his advantage in height, he gazed down at Trevor beneath heavy, golden lashes. “So. Are you going to run away now, little hunter? Or will you stay and find out what those forgotten dreams showed you - more than my claws.” He let one run down the line of Trevor’s chin. “More than my hands.” Placing a palm above Trevor’s heart he counted the beats. “More than my eyes.” The clawed fingers on Trevor’s chin curled underneath it, tilting Trevor’s head up, until their eyes locked.

Trevor swallowed visibly, and the beat of his heart was a primal drum rhythm in Adrian’s ears. “I, uh… Fuck!”

“Yes, that is what I’m implying.” Adrian chuckled, finding Trevor’s babbling quite endearing. 

A flash of irritation in Trevor’s eyes, before a hand tangled in Adrian’s hair, literally pulling him back to the Earth. “Do not mock me,” Trevor hissed.

So quick to anger, so quick to disarm. Adrian ignored the hand pulling hard at his hair to snake even closer to Trevor, to push a thigh between Trevor’s legs and slither his hands underneath Trevor’s shirt. Splaying his fingers against taut skin and muscle, curling fingers inwards until nails raked the skin, feeling muscles tremble beneath his hand. Twisting it until his fingers pointed down, he let it drift downwards, and though Trevor’s belt stopped him, he traced the pads of his fingers over skin and slightly rough hair underneath the waistband of Trevor’s trousers. 

“I do not mock.” His words hadn’t been necessary, as his actions had Trevor leaning heavily against the wall, breath uneven and ragged. 

Sinking to his knees, Adrian let his hands come to rest on the growing hardness in Trevor’s trousers. Not completely against it, then. “Stop me if you wish,” he simply said, before setting about removing any obstacle between him and what he wanted at. Belts, red sash, trousers - all simply nuisances to be be done away with. Not until he wrapped his fingers around flesh did he slow his pace. Burying his face in dip on the inside of Trevor’s hip, he inhaled, a deep scent to colour the thundering of blood in his ears. _So hungry_. 

Tilting his head to the side, he studied the cock in his hand, fingers moving languidly over velvety skin. Every bit a part of Trevor, heavy and full, veins just beneath the skin, so close. Adrian felt his fangs perceptibly lengthen, sharpen in anticipation. On instinct. _Bloodlust_. He willed it to the back of his mind, though the teeth there were little to be done about other than proceeding with care.

Lifting Trevor’s cock, he buried his nose at its base, inhaling there as well, before mouthing the shaft carefully, running his tongue up its length, across the frenum and head, dipping into the slit. 

Above him Trevor groaned, a hand tangling in Adrian’s hair steadying him. Wanting to hear more of the delectable sounds, Adrian grinned and wrapped his lips around flesh, careful of his fangs. Swallowing, he took in as much of it as he could, tongue moving against the underside, and only once or twice did he let a fang’s side touch the skin in dark prophecy of what _could_ happen - the hitch in Trevor’s breath thrilling. Mouth, tongue and hands all worked to draw delicious sounds from Trevor, until Adrian himself was breathing in sharp, uneven breaths, hard and eager, confined by his trousers.

Hand still moving around Trevor’s cock, though slowed, he slithered up along Trevor’s body. There was a look of nonplussed confusion in Trevor’s eyes, beneath a furrowed brow.

“I can’t have you spent already, I have something else in mind. I want you…” Pausing, he ran his tongue along Trevor’s jaw to his ear, fangs scraping against skin. “...to fuck me.”

Trevor’s eyelids fluttered, his eyes almost rolling back in his head. He breathed heavily, lips parted and bitten. “Shit,” he breathed, but managed to move his hands from the wall where he had basically been clawing gashes in the stone, to Alucard’s hips. “I’ve...never… Not with…”

“It’s okay, do your best, Belmont. I'm sure you know the basics, you’ve been around the village a few times.” 

“I guess. Slick and patience, right?”

Adrian laughed, to the point as usual. “Indeed. One I can provide, though patience is on you.” 

“Where? Here?” Trevor looked around the room, brow furrowing again. 

“No, _come_ …” With a smirk, Adrian pulled away, walking to the door. Though maybe not as much walked as sauntered, knowing Trevor would have problems walking straight behind him. Taking his time, he pulled his shirt over his head, flinging it to the side along the way. Then he started on the buckles of the belts holding his trousers up, unbuckling them and dropping them to his side as he walked. 

Behind him Trevor swore under his breath, a long line of expletives. The rustling of fabric and the thud of boots dropped to the floor told Adrian Trevor had gotten the right idea. He moved to a room a few doors over, the one he used as his bedroom. Inside the door, he rummaged through a drawer, finding a bottle of sword oil. It’d do. Bottle in hand, he stepped out of his boots and let his trousers drop away, stepping out of them. Fully undressed, he turned, studying Trevor as he entered the room, also undressed. 

He _had_ looked before, stolen glances when Belmont cleaned up in a river or a creek, while taking baths the few times they’d been able to lodge at inns along the way. Now he _studied_ with heavy eyes. Trevor was in every way a hunter, body shaped by his chosen profession, the tall frame broad, but lean. Skin, varying degrees of tan, stretched taut over defined muscles - skin marred by a multitude of scars, new and old. The most striking the one cutting straight down across his eye. A smattering of hair the same colour as the one on his head covered his torso, before narrowing to a trail pointing downwards. His face graced by an almost-shy smile and those bright, blue eyes.

Darkness to Adrian’s own pale moonlight. Neither of them really creatures of daylight, more like beasts of the night. Brothers in arms. Lovers - soon.

Curling a finger, Adrian beckoned Trevor over, stepping backwards towards the bed. “Come,” he whispered - and Trevor obliged, stepping closer and closer until he was close enough to touch. Again, Adrian cradled Trevor’s chin in his hand, the bone structure chiseled and strong. Rubbing the pad of his thumb along Trevor’s lower lip, he relished the warm, soft texture. Trevor’s breath felt warm against the digit, hitched, uneven. Then Trevor tongued his thumb, wet slickness brushing against the sensitive fingertip, mirroring what ministrations Adrian had lavished upon Trevor’s cock earlier. 

“Unholy hell,” he whispered, before removing his hand and replacing it with his mouth, taking control of the kiss, hand in Trevor’s hair, guiding him - tongue against tongue, slick and hot and everything he craved - _almost_. Having seemingly forgotten about Adrian’s fangs, Trevor’s tongue scraped against one, nicking skin, filling their mouths with the faint tang of iron.

Adrian _growled._ He knew that if he looked at his reflection in Trevor’s eyes, his golden eyes would have taken on a crimson hue, even the sclera discoloured. _So hungry_. 

He grabbed Trevor by his waist, and turned them around, almost throwing Trevor down on the bed, before crawling after.

There it was again, the tenseness in every fiber of Trevor’s being, the oh so human instinct when faced with a predator. To settle it, Adrian ran his mouth along every patch of skin he could get his mouth on as he slinked up along Trevor’s body, from the inside of Trevor’s thigh, up, giving his cock a dwelling lick from base to tip, up his abdomen, across his torso, dipping his tongue into the notch above his sternum, before drawing both fangs and tongue up along the line of Trevor’s jugular. The last move definitely had Trevor vacillate back into fearful again, so Adrian pulled away, licking one final bloodied trace of saliva from Trevor’s lips. 

Steadying himself, he sat up and uncorked the bottle of oil, pouting it into his palm and over his fingers. “I know I said patience was on you, Belmont, but I think I just ran out of it, for the both of us.”

Carefully, he moved his hand behind himself, pushing slick fingertips against his entrance. It wasn’t the easiest position to ready himself in, but he didn’t care. All he needed was to have pushed past the muscle with some of the slick oil, to scissor and stretch for just a short moment. The hunger spurred him on, made him impatient. Pain, he could handle. Waiting, not so much, 

A moment later he wrapped his slick hand around Trevor’s cock, wiping of any remaining oil on the warm skin, feeling it harden even further in his hand. Letting go and bracing himself on Trevor’s chest, he lifted his hips and ass, guided Trevor’s cock to his entrance, and lowered himself slowly. There was pain, yes, enough for him to bite his own lip bloody, fang tearing delicate skin - but it healed in moments, leaving just a drop of blood trailing down his chin as he strained. 

Trevor’s cock filled him, stretching him, rubbed against all the right places. Bottoming out he took a moment to catch his breath, still steadying himself against Trevor. “Good,” he breathed between clenched teeth.

Staring down at Trevor, he took in the glazed look dulling the blue eyes, the parted, wet lips, and laboured breathing of his partner. If Sypha had already got to see that particular vision, _he_ was going to become the jealous one. 

Willing his body into motion, Adrian strained his thighs, undulating up and down, soon supported by Trevor’s hands on his hips, strong arms helping, lifting. The movement seemed to focus Trevor, to engage him in the moment. He was staring up at Adrian, almost unblinking, and his bottom lip was stuck between his teeth in an image of utter abandon, blue irises blown wide, darkness in his eyes. 

Supported, Adrian could move without having to brace as hard, instead he ran a hand across Trevor’s torso, nails scratching over a nipple, drawing a low groan from Trevor. Repeating the action had Trevor bucking up against Adrian, hitting just right. Bright stars coloured the edge of Adrian’s vision, and he let his head tilt back, mouth falling open as he struggled to breathe. Vocalizing his pleasure got Trevor to repeat the motion, again and again. 

Keeping a bruising grip on Adrian’s hip, Trevor let go with the other hand, wrapping calloused, rough fingers around Adrian’s throat, silencing him as he struggled to breathe through his nose instead. Oh, fuck, how well Belmont had read him. 

Grabbing his own cock, rubbing the thumb through a droplet of precome, smearing it along the underside of the head, Adrian dropped his chin to rest against the hand wrapped around his throat, looking down at Trevor’s burning eyes. However much he loved his position, he wanted more. 

Grabbing Trevor’s sides with his knees and calves, he leaned in, flush against Trevor’s chest. “Switch,” he breathed, and with their combined effort he soon found himself on his back, hair spread in a fan around his head, Trevor between his legs, balls deep in his ass. _Perfect._

Reaching up, he ran his hands through Trevor’s hair, from his temples to the back of his head, willing his nails sharpen into slight, delicate claws, enough for them to be noticeable. Trevor leaned into the touch, much like a kitty craving a cuddle. _His_ kitty today.

“Now you fuck me into oblivion,” Adrian purred, spurring Trevor on with a tilt of his hips and a push from his calves wrapped around Trevor’s waist. 

“Ungodly, otherworldly, _beautiful_ , shit-eating asshole,” Trevor hissed between clenched teeth.

Ah, that eloquent Belmont charm. But at least he obeyed, fucking Adrian with all his brute might. Closing his eyes, dreamlike images played against the inside of Adrian’s eyelids. Yes, this was what he had dreamt, exactly this, several nights every week for months. This was what daylight had taken from him, the utter bliss of having Trevor Belmont inside him, fucking him raw. 

His control slipping quickly, he couldn’t stop parts of his inhuman nature showing themselves savagely. Fangs manifested themselves entirely, claws grew longer, and a red haze clouded his vision. Clawing at the back of Trevor’s head, he pulled him close, pushed his face against the side of his own neck, relishing in the wet glide of a tongue against his skin, settling in the joint between neck and shoulder, biting, licking and suckling. 

So close, Trevor’s neck was just in front of him, tempting, inviting. Twisting into it, Adrian rested his open mouth against it, feeling the beat of the carotid pulse call him from beneath the skin. Fresh blood, nourishing, heady. At the touch of his teeth against skin, Trevor froze, before pulling slightly away, looking down into Adrian’s blood-hazed eyes. There was fear in his eyes, but also a willingness, a compliance Adrian had never noticed before. 

Trevor halted his motions, licking his lips. “Do you want…,” he started, voice trailing off.

Rubbing his thumb against the pulse point, Adrian smiled, toothily. “For a long time, Belmont. You make me hungry. For _this_ ,” he said, gesturing to indicate what they were doing. “And _this_ ,” he followed up as he tapped a fingertip against skin. 

“You smell delicious.” Trevor seemed to have cleaned up considerably during the last year, and truly, he smelled of himself, of the snow he had arrived in, and of delicious blood. Nothing more. 

“If it hurts, I’m knocking you teeth out.” 

In Adrian’s eyes that was all the permission he needed, and slowly he coached Trevor back down, both resting their face against the side of the other’s neck. Urging Trevor to move again, Adrian bided his time, until Trevor’s breath spead up, until his thrusts started faltering, until his eyes closed and his teeth started gritting together. 

Then, only then, did he sink his teeth into skin, deep to reach what he craved. The taste of Trevor’s heart-blood flooded his senses, fresh and bright, a wave of warmth like a tsunami crashing through his arteries straight to his cock. Life and vitality, and closeness and memories.

Breathing hard and fast against Trevor’s neck while blood bubbled into his mouth, with Trevor shuddering in his arms and his cock pulsing in his ass, Adrian felt intense heat pool in the pit of his abdomen, building, coiling. His muscles while he grasped at Trevor’s shoulders and back with desperate, clawing hands. Retracting his fangs to stop himself from tearing Trevor’s throat open, he arched sharply into the mattress, against Trevor, moaning his name as his cock twitched between them, his seed staining their bellies. 

Willing his breathing calmer, he forces his eyes open, taking in the sight of Trevor collapsed across his chest, all limp limbs and relaxed muscles. His head was still hidden against the side of Adrian’s neck, but his breath steadied with every passing moment. A tiny stream of blood still trickled down the visible part of his throat, and Adrian awkwardly leaned in, licking up his mess, willing the punctures to close. Before his eyes the wounds knitted themselves together, leaving only bruising. Markings. Brands on what was his. 

“You. Are fucking insane,” Trevor finally managed to groan against his ear. “A beautiful, provocative, dirty madman.”

Pushing at Trevor’s shoulder, Adrian got him to roll over, following until he was on top again. Sitting up, he ran his hands through his tangled hair, only managing to fluff it up further. His face was smeared with blood and his belly with come. Trevor’s cock had slipped from his ass, and he could feel a slowly trickling warmth stain the inside of his thighs, dripping down onto Trevor’s own belly. Deciding to put on a small show, he satedly ran his claws through the blood and come, before thoroughly licking the sticky fluids off his fingers, pink tongue darting between fingers and across his palm, lapping up every drop and stain, all the while watching Trevor intently from under heavily lidded, drowsy eyes.

A devil on his shoulder, he grinned wickedly. “So will you tell your Speaker magician about this? What will she say?”

“ _Shit!_ Who did you accuse of being a incubus, you fucking feral sex fiend, you…” Trevor’s cock twitched again, caught under Adrian’s naked ass, earning him a hearty laugh in response. “But yes, I will. And she’ll most likely want details.” He ran his hands up Adrian’s sides, rubbing lazy circles. “How I’m even supposed to describe this though, I have no idea. Al...Adrian, you’re the fucking stuff of dreams and nightmares both. Fucking gorgeous death on legs.”

Leaning in, Adrian locked eyes with Trevor, just inches apart. “Will you dream of me again then, little Belmont?”

“Like you’ve given me any choice, you fucking demon.”

“Ah, but let it be lucid dreams from now on. And when they become too much, come see me again. _Come fuck me_.” Biting his lip on purpose, he dragged a finger through the welling blood, before offering it to Trevor. “This isn’t a thrall, just a taste of what is available to you if you return for more.” 

Hesitantly, Trevor licked the fingertip, and Adrian watched as his pupils dilated, becoming dark blown circles, his breath catching in his throat as his fingers dug into Adrian’s sides, hard enough to break and bruise.

“What the hell?” Trevor rasped, confused. 

“Just a little taste of a vampires true power, too little to bind you nor turn you. Just a little high, like closeness and skin against skin, amplified. Better than your bottles, right?”

“You never cease to surprise me, shithead.”

“Never will.”

Mellow like Adrian had never seen him before, Trevor pulled Adrian down on top of himself, wrapping his long, strong arms, around him.

“We’re too sticky to sleep like this.”

“Don’t care…” Trevor answered, voice trailing off, already sleep-muddled. “Stay.”

Adrian did, though it took less than a modicum of wriggling around to find a comfortable position. He fell asleep listening to Trevor’s steady heartbeat just beneath his ear.

\---

That night they both dreamed, brighter dreams than ever before, almost identical. Upon waking, they remembered vividly, and tough sticky and messy they soon found themselves sinking into each other again, long limbs entwined, mouths on skin and mouths on cocks, moans filling the room.

\---

“You did what?” Sypha asked, eyes wide and twinkling.

“Fucked him. Twice. In his own bed. “ Sheepishly, Trevor rubbed the back of his head, fully expecting her to scream at him, to do _something_. Though he had told Adrian she would probably want details, it could have turned out to be wishful thinking on his part.

She blinked. Once. Twice. Three times - before her face burst into a wide, genuine smile.

“So glad you two sorted yourself out.” She patted his arm. “Don’t worry, still love you. But you need more than me. Let me tell you, this has been in the cards since the first time you laid eyes on him. You’re an open book, Belmont, and your sexuality is quite an interesting chapter.” Laughing a bright laugh, she looked up at the blue, cold, winter sky. “I have my stories and you. You have me and him. Be there for him, so he at least has _someone_.”

That was the moment Trevor Belmont knew Sypha Belnades would be the mother of his children, and a certain half-blood would be his hearth and home, the castle a harbour to always return to.

The same hearth and home was also a goddamn sex fiend invading his dreams on a regular basis. They never settled on whose fault that was, so he found he had a decent enough excuse to return quickly. He’d bring Sypha along too, maybe she’d find some explanation for his dreams in the Belmont keep - or just get a show to watch. Because describing Adrian _fucking_ proved bloody, fucking impossible.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Good? Something needs changing? Enjoy it? Feel free to drop me a line, even if it's only to scream about season 3 being on the horizon.
> 
> For some reason AO3 keeps adding random spaces before and after italics, tell me if you see any and I'll fix them - I find them quite annoying myself.
> 
> You can also find me rambling at https://www.pillowfort.social/_Kitsu_


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